


Motherlode

by GrumblingGeek



Series: Namfine [1]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: 1849, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Professors, Alternate Universe - Western, Earthquakes, F/M, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff, Gold Rush, Kim Namjoon - Freeform, Loss of Virginity, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pining, Professor Kim Namjoon | RM, Smut, Virgin Reader, Western, bts - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23135263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumblingGeek/pseuds/GrumblingGeek
Summary: Following the death of your father in 1849, you travel across the United States in search of finding gold in California. There you stumble upon a young geology professor eager to find his way in the world as well.
Relationships: Kim Namjoon | RM/Original Female Character(s), Kim Namjoon | RM/Reader
Series: Namfine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1662946
Comments: 14
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello All!
> 
> Here is another short Namjoon AU that I wrote for our smut tumblr, Namfine (https://namfine.tumblr.com). I am going through a hefty western phase right now and will be posting the next segment shortly. Follow us on Tumblr for a variety of fic that I write there and don't post here and great content from the other writers. We also take requests so feel free to send them our way. If you want a specific admin to write it, don't be afraid to ask!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The sunrises out here really were beautiful. That gave you something to look forward to each day, at least. You urged your horse forward, eager to catch up to the rest of the caravan. It was just a few more miles until you reached the border of California and then a  _ bit _ more to reach the American River. You had made it. For the first time in a long time, you felt a glimmer of hope. 

The trek across America had been harder than you expected. You had been so overcome with grief from the death of your father that you had leapt at the opportunity to find riches in the unexplored west after James Marshall found that massive gold nugget. New York had nothing for you now, it’s only purpose serving as a stark reminder that you had no one left in the world to look out for you. Only mean neighbors who trusted your bookshop owning father on his peculiar way of raising a young lady. 

_ “I do oppose young ladies learning how to read, it’s quite unbecoming.” _

_ “If you keep encouraging those debates, Mr. Y/L/N, you’re going to raise her to have a mind of her own!” _

_ “Ugh, did you see what Y/N was wearing around the store the other evening? Pantaloons!” _

You shoved down the memories. Yes, leaving New York after the death of your father had been surprisingly easy. 

The sun finally tipped over the horizon and flashed in your eyes. You pulled down your cap, careful to keep your hair tucked under it in an effort to block the sun. It was dangerous for a single young lady without a male relative or husband to travel alone. With no known family left, you had done the only thing you knew to avoid it: became a boy.

As a boy you were inconspicuous, you could easily slide under the radar. Men stopped paying attention to you and the streets were safer at night. Your last night in New York all it took was a pair of scissors and a quick raid of your father’s closet and you were ready to go. But now, five months into the journey, your hair was starting to get long again and you knew your face well enough to know that if you didn’t pin your hair, it would soon be easy to tell. You had lost your knife a few months back and sorely felt the loss. 

“How are the pains?” A soft voice drew you from your thoughts and you turned to see the minister’s wife astride her sorrel mare beside you. As one of the few women in the group, she had the ability to move quietly when she needed to. She was older than you and had a kind face. Her and her husband were heading to California to spread the gospel of the lord and had been kind enough to let you tag along with their group on the journey. Most of which were practicers of religion or men hoping to find riches for their families. The caravan totaled to about 25 people and of them all, she was the only one that knew you were a girl. 

She’d figured it out quickly, given the fact that your period the first month on the road had been brutal. She had recognized your pain, offered you some herbs, and didn’t ask any questions. 

When you offered an explanation later, stating how you wanted the opportunity and safety only a man’s appearance could offer, she said you didn’t need to explain. That your reasonings were your own and she understood what would happen if you were discovered. Of the freedom that could be taken from you and the things that could be forced upon you in an instant.

And that was that. Your companionship had grown from there, simple but welcomed. 

“They’re better,” you respond. “Thank you for the herbs.”

The woman smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do when you get there?”

You tightened your resolve and flashed her a smile. “I’m gonna kick the West’s ass.”

* * *

It turns out, the West’s ass didn’t want to  _ be _ kicked. By the time you had reached the base on the American River parts of your group had dwindled down. The minister and his wife stayed with you and the other panners for a few days before continuing on their journey to San Francisco leaving you, for the first time on this journey, completely and utterly alone. 

The base was huge, an expedition set up by a mean old man who called himself The Warden. What his real name was, no one knew. You had that in common with him at least, having kept your true name secret to all who you’d encountered. 

It was now, standing in his massive tent surrounded by his men, that the sinking feeling of being a woman in disguise in a camp filled with rascals settled in. If any one were to discover you, god knows what would happen. 

“How old are you anyway, boy?” The warden asked. He was standing behind his desk. On it was a map of the American with circles indicating where gold had been found. “You’re a scrawny fella.”

“Sixteen, sir.”  _ 23\. But tall, for a girl and well past marriageable age in your neighbors opinions. _

The older man scoffed, stroking his mustache. “And you out here searchin’ for riches, son? Gonna blow it all on hookers and booze, I betcha.” The men around him laughed. You kept your face neutral.

“Something like that, sir.” 

“Well,” he took a swig from the metal mug. “All walks of life are welcome here. We’re all runnin’ from somethin’ and searchin’ for the-” he held up a finger “- _ one  _ thing that will help us escape.” He put down the mug and grabbed a piece of paper from his desk, careful to avoid smudging the ink on the map. “Sign here and you can start tomorrow.”

You looked at the paper. Lucky for you, your father had believed that everyone, regardless of gender should be taught to read. You couldn’t say the same for the parents of other girls your age. He had also taught you to be wary of a contract. “What is it?” 

“An agreement, boy. You sign away 60 days of honest work to me, panning for gold and helping assemble my mine. After that, I’ll let you pan here for free. Anything you find, you keep.” 

Seems fair. 

“What if I find something before my days are up?”

He looked at you. “Then it’s mine. I’m letting you sleep here and eat our food, I gotta pay for it all somehow and aren’t we all in this for profit?”

Touche.

“Deal.” 

* * *

The days were long and the work was hard. Regardless, you found yourself quickly settling into a routine at the camp. You started most mornings down by the river, panning for gold. The cool water managed to balance out the hot sun and compared to the noisy streets of New York, you were loving the sounds of the birds and the wind. 

In the afternoons you would sometimes continue panning or they would send you into the mines to help clear paths. You hated it down there. There was something unnerving about going deep into the earth and digging into her crevices. The air smelled damp and the only light was the lanterns that were hung haphazardly along the walls. You tried to avoid this work as much as possible.

On the eighth day of your sentence your routine was broken by a disturbance on the outskirts of the main base. A young professor had arrived a few days earlier and you had paid him little mind, as did most of the other miners. Still, it seemed his time of going unnoticed was over.

“What did you say about my gold?” An angry man had the lanky professor by his collar and up against a tree, two of his friends closing in on either side. 

The professor waved his arms in surrender, trying desperately to fix whatever it was he seemed to have started. You stopped along the path along with a few other panners to observe and a small crowd gathered shortly. 

“I merely spoke the truth,” The professor said, his voice even and calm. “What you have there isn’t gold at all. It’s pyrite. You trading it for time off his sentence seems hardly fair considering it's pretty much worthless.”

You shook your head at his honesty in such a compromising position.  _ What an idiot. _

“Look,” The panner said, tightening his grip on the professor's collar. “ I may not have some fancy degree from some big college but I’ve been working these waters a lot longer than you, boy, and I know gold when I see it.”

“It’s an easy mistake to make, when you don’t know the differences. I hardly blame you.”

Your mouth dropped open. The men around you shifted on their feet, sensing a scuffle. 

The man fumed. “Are you calling me a liar?”

The professor looked down at his collar at the spot where the man gripped his collar before tracing the man’s arm with his eyes slowly back to his face. 

_ Oh god, _ you thought.  _ Please don’t say it. _

“I don’t think you’re a liar,” the professor stated. 

_ Oh, good. He has some sense at least. _

“Just an idiot.” 

_ Here we go. _

The man pulled back his other fist, his friends egging him on, ready to throw the punch. The professor shot another one of his goofy grins and this time you could have sworn it was in your direction. You stared at him in abject confusion. 

“Stop!” A shout rang out across the group and everyone froze. “What’s going on here?” 

You turned to see the warden fast approaching, his usual squad hot on his heels. “Men, release the professor and explain!”

The man holding the professor’s collar dropped it and the professor brushed off his shirt, giving him another small smile. “This here smart guy,” the assailant started. “Was accusin’ me of lyin’. Sayin’ that I was rippin’ ole Jimmy off with a piece of . . . uh. . .” he looked at the professor.

The professor leaned forward. “Pyrite,” he supplied.

“Ah, yeah,” the man continued. “Pyrite! He said I was rippin’ Jimmy off with a piece of this here Pyrite!” 

The warden looked up at the heaven’s like he was hoping today would be his last day on earth. “Could I see the mineral in question?” 

The man supplied the gem out of his pocket and handed it to the warden. The crowd stood on their tiptoes as he examined it, eager to see the verdict. The professor didn’t show any emotion, merely crossed his arms in quiet confidence. You studied his movements. 

The warden turned the piece over in his hands, examining the mineral before bringing it to his mouth and biting down. When he was satisfied he turned toward the assailant. 

“The professor accused you of lyin’ not because he thought you were,” the warden began, startlingly calm. “But because he knew you were a FUCKING IDIOT!” The warden threw the stone against the tree, mere inches past the assailants head who cowered at the tone. “That  _ is  _ pyrite you imbecile!”

The crowd burst into conversation. Some laughed and others stated their opinions on the matter but your eyes stayed glued to the young professor. He watched you for a minute in response before turning to address the warden who was explaining his position to his lackeys. You moved closer so you could hear better, eager to learn more about the strange man who had appeared on the base. You had to admit, he was handsome but the pretty ones always brought trouble. 

“Gentlemen, this is Professor Kim,” the warden introduced the young man to his group. They all nodded and introduced themselves in return but you didn’t bother to remember their names. “He is visitin’ us from a University overseas. Here to assist in discoverin’ where to best find the most valuable of Earth’s metals. He’s a . . . uhh. . . geographer or somethin’,” the warden explained. “Studies dirt and the like.”

“ _ Geologist, _ ” Professor Kim corrected. “A mining geologist to be specific. I study the  extractions of mineral resources from the Earth.”

The group stared at him.

“Rocks,” he sighed, defeated. “I study rocks.” 

A chorus of ‘Ahh’s’ broke out amongst the men. You stifled a laugh. You may not have traveled much but growing up in your father’s bookshop you had read  _ a lot  _ and even you knew what a geologist was. 

“Regardless,” the warden continued, casting a dismissive hand in the Professor’s direction. “The higher ups seem hell bent on makin’ sure he makes progress in his work and comes out with as few - er  _ \- scratches  _ as possible.” 

Professor Kim tilted his head. “I would also very much appreciate that.” 

“That being said,” the warden turned around looking over the crowd. “You there, boy!” The warden pointed in your direction. Surprised, you looked behind you. No one was there. You looked back at him, pointing at yourself.

“Me?”

“Yes,  _ you,”  _ the warden spat. “You’re to assist the professor during his time here. Make sure he has everythin’ he needs and most of all, make sure he stays out of trouble.”

The warden turned on his heel to leave, clearly believing the matter to be settled. 

You chased after him, as the crowd began to disperse, struggling to maintain your composure and keep your cool. “Sir, with all due respect I need to be on the rive-”

“Look, boy, I don’t have time to deal with this. You heard my command,” He turned lowering himself closer to your face. He reeked of body odor and whiskey and you struggled not to cover your nose. “-and my command is  _ law. _ You signed that there contract, you work for  _ me. _ And I say: you’re to be assistin’ the professor for the rest of his time here, and that’s that.” He spun on his heel and was gone. In a few short minutes the crowd was fully gone, leaving only you and the young professor.

Defeated, you cursed under your breath, not sure what you had done to deserve this. You were supposed to be out here finding gold, getting rich, and starting a new life far away from your troubles in the East and now you were supposed to babysit some yippy foreign professor because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. 

You finally turned to face Professor Kim. He raised an eyebrow in your direction and flashed a big smile, unaware the damage he was causing to your patience. He was tall, wearing a simple loose long sleeved white shirt tucked into snug pants. He had enough sense, it seemed, to leave behind the suit jacket and hat but had chosen to keep the suspenders. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.  _ Ever the gentleman.  _

“Look,” you addressed him directly for the first time. “I don’t have time to be your babysitter. I need to find some gold and get the hell out of this shithole. So, I’d appreciate it if you could keep yourself out of trouble.”

He sized you up, eyeing your garb with an intelligence that was completely different from the bumbling professor he had been mere minutes before. He raised his eyes to meet your own and you struggled to not falter under his gaze. His eyebrow quirked again, a sly smile on his lips. “You have quite the dirty mouth for a lady.”

You froze, fighting the urge to touch your cap.  _ It’s still there, you’re okay.  _ You could feel the wrappings on your chest and knew that they were intact as well. How did he . . .?

“I don’t know to what you are referring,” you kept your tone calm and cool. 

“Don’t fret,” he responded, brushing off your glare. “I don’t think anyone else here has noticed.”

That did it. You grabbed his arm and pulled him along behind you, dodging the panners and workers that flitted about searching for the one thing that could make their lives less miserable. Finding a quiet alley between two tents you pushed him against the wall. The professor put his hands up in surrender, his eyes wide in surprise. 

“Okay, talk,” you whispered. You were surrounded by chaos but who knew who may overhear. “How did you figure it out? Did someone tell you?”  _ The minister’s wife?  _

He laughed, shaking his head. “No, no one told me. It’s just-”

You shook his shoulders, your brow furrowed. Here he was  _ laughing _ when your future was literally at stake. “It’s just  _ what?!” _

He stopped laughing and looked at you. _ Really  _ looked at you, his expression serious. “It’s just . . . you’re too pretty to be a boy. I could tell right away.”

Shocked, you released his arms and took a step back.

“It’s a miracle no one else has figured it out, really,” he continued. “Your walk is all wrong. You still walk like a lady, pretending there’s an invisible string that holds you up from your head. If you want to be believable, you have to walk pelvis first-” he demonstrated pushing his pelvis out and bending his knees before motioning at his stance “-like this.” 

You snorted. “Well, it’s gotten me this far.”

“ _ Well, _ ” he replied, straightening himself up and brushing some dirt off his pants. It didn’t really help, he was still covered. “To be fair, you’re surrounded by idiots.” 

You laughed. He was right there. 

The professor held out his hand. “You can call me Namjoon.”

You looked at his outstretched hand for a second before relunctantly shaking it back. 

“Y/N”

* * *

“So what is it you even do?” You asked bright and early the next morning. You had reported to Namjoon’s tent, as commanded, and stood there watching as he shoved some strange looking tools into his bag. 

“My job,” he began, holding up a paintbrush. “Is to discover what minerals exactly are in the area around here and to learn as much about gold and how to find it as possible in the next few weeks.” 

“And how,” you asked, watching him toss a few shovels into his bag. “Are you going to do that?”

“Well, my dear little guardian,” he tightened the latches on the bag and threw it over his shoulder, “why don’t you come along to find out?”

You followed him to a spot on the southern tip of a branch in the American river. From here the base appeared tiny and peaceful, the tents gently swaying in the breeze. It was another perfectly sunny day and you readjusted your cap to wipe the sweat off your brow as you struggled to keep up. The professor may have appeared slim and studious but clearly, the man had some muscle on his bones because he was booking it up the trail. 

Namjoon stopped when he reached a curve in the river far away from the other panners and plopped his bag on the ground. 

“What do you know about gold, Y/N?” he asked, unlatching the bag to pull out a pan. 

“That you can sell it and get a lot of money.”

Namjoon laughed. It was a pleasant sound that held none of the malicious intent you sometimes heard in the laughter of other men. Namjoon’s laugh was carefree and seemed to convey true joy. You liked it. 

“Aye, yeah. You can indeed sell it and get a lot of money. Especially nowadays.” He dipped the pan into the running water, scooping up some of the grit down at the bottom and beginning to sift through it. “I was hoping you could tell me a bit  _ more _ about gold. Like, where it comes from?”

“Isn’t that your job?” You remarked, sitting on a rock beside him, careful to avoid wet spots. He was mesmerizing to watch, the way his hands dipped in and out of the water, his long fingers searching through the grit when he thought he saw something that caught his eye. 

“Come on, Y/N, give me something to work with here.”

You sighed, giving in. “A lot of gold is found in water. It’s malleable, hence why the warden bit the stone yesterday to prove that it wasn’t gold. Uhhh . . . it’s yellow?”

Namjoon chuckled as he made a selection from his pan. He held it up so that you could see the reflective deep yellow surface. The sun bounced off the metal making it hard to look anywhere but the gold that Namjoon had found in literally ten minutes. 

“This,” Namjoon began. “Is true gold. Do you know how I can tell?” 

You shook your head. Namjoon turned the rock over in his hands. 

“One, as you already said, hardness.” He took a nail and flecked off a piece of the small rock. “See how it just scraped off there? That’s a telltale sign.”

“Second, smell. Pyrite sometimes has a slight sulfur smell when rubbed. Gold will not.” He handed you the gold. You turned it over in your hands before bringing it to your nose and inhaling. Nothing. 

You met Namjoon’s eyes. “Nothing.” 

“Third,” he continued. “Shape. Gold, as you can see is a small malleable lump. Pyrite, like the one yesterday, is larger and more cube-like in structure. More impressive to look at but, less money when sold.” 

You nodded and handed the gold back to Namjoon. “How much would you estimate that piece to be worth? If you had to take your best guess?”

“Well,” Namjoon began. “I’m no jeweler. I’m better at finding the minerals than pricing them but if I had to hazard a guess . . . .huh. . . It’s quite a few ounces, at least. Honestly, quite a nifty little chunk there. I’d say possibly upwards of $500?” 

Your jaw dropped open.  _ “$500?” _

Namjoon shrugged. “I mean, it’s a guess.”

“Holy  _ shit! _ ” That was more money than your father made in three months. You would know, you helped with the books. 

“Well, anyway, that’s gold.” Namjoon shoved the gem in his pocket and stood up.

You darted up after him. “Wait, a second! That’s it! What are you going to do with that? Give it to the warden?”

Namjoon smirked at you. “I don’t work for the warden. I’m going to keep it. I need it for research anyway, that’s why I brought you here. Now, we study it.”

You stared at him. Shocked that he could care so little for the fiscal amount of the stone in his pocket. Namjoon, oblivious as normal, merely scooped his belongings into his bag and motioned for you to follow. “Come along, Y/N. We have a long day of documenting ahead of us.” 

* * *

Life as Namjoon’s assistant wasn’t the worst thing ever. Most days would start with you both checking specific points around the river for gold, pyrite, and other expensive minerals. He would bring along a sketchbook and draw the most interesting ones or make a list of the scenarios in which they were found. You followed suit and eventually took over this part of the job for him, since your drawing was exponentially better.

If you were being honest with yourself, it was fun work. Namjoon was great company and always had a variety of fun stories to tell. You couldn’t believe the places he’d been, the environment in which he had grown up, and the people he had met along the way. 

“Y’know,” he said one day after finishing a story about a strange magician he had met on the streets of Singapore. He was bent over his desk, scribbling notes into a leather bound book. You were on the opposite side of the room, drawing some of the gold specimens you had gathered that day. The candles were low and the sun setting, providing a warm, evening glow inside the tent. You looked over at him, ink smudged on his chin and hair tousled from his messing. “You’ve had miraculous adventures yourself. Growing up in New York City? Traveling across the entire continent of North America, essentially alone, in search of a new future?” He looked up from his notebook, meeting your eyes from across the room. “It’s pretty impressive stuff.” 

You shrugged, breaking eye contact to continue your sketch. “Not really. It was just survival.”

“That’s all adventures are, really,” he murmured, returning to his work. “Surviving.”

* * *

It was late one evening and the camp had finally quieted down. Namjoon had fallen asleep hours ago covered in a blanket in his favorite chair next to the crackling fire while reading through some manuscripts. You were still awake, concentrating hard on a drawing you had started on a piece of pyrite the two of you had unearthed earlier. You were trying to get the cube like structure of the crystals perfect and it just wasn’t  _ working. _

Frustrated, you pressed too hard on your graphite snapping the tip. You flung it across the room with a noise of exasperation and nearly jumped out of your chair at the deep rumble of laughter that followed.

Your head turned to find Namjoon staring at you from across the room, his eyes half lidded with sleep and his hair in it’s permanently mussed state. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been up for awhile.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? I could have brought you some tea.”

“I like watching you work. It’s . . .” he seemed to be searching for the right word. “Mesmerizing.” 

You averted your eyes to the floor struggling to keep the blush that had crept up into your cheeks from his view. You hoped he wouldn’t notice in the dim lighting. “I can’t imagine it’s all that interesting.”

“Believe me, it is.”

You met his eyes again and struggled to calm the rapid pace of your heart. When did Namjoon become so  _ handsome? _ And why was he saying such things?

“Anyway,” you started, standing up from the desk. “It’s getting late and I should be getting to bed.” 

“Would you like me to walk you back?” he asked, making to move.

You laughed. “Wouldn’t people find it strange that you’re walking your young male apprentice back to his tent late at night? Don’t want people to think you’re out here doing anything scandalous.” 

He smiled at you. “Oh, I’m already a scoundrel in many ways, Y/N.” 

You didn’t answer him but hid the smile it caused as you packed up your belongings and bid him farewell. 

You pondered your relationship with him the entire walk across camp to your meager tent. With Namjoon, you could be yourself. He didn’t reprimand you for your use of ‘unladylike language’ or tell you to cross your legs when you sat. He also didn’t mind that you wore men's clothes or could outread him in a flat out race. He respected you enough to keep your secret and didn’t treat you any different when the two of you were alone in his tent, allowing you to assist in the work just as much as he. 

It was amazing how fast acquaintances turned to friends in the West.

* * *

“I’m going into the mines today,” Namjoon announced one day, taking a long sip of his tea. He sat in a chair by his desk, flipping through one of his journals. You weren’t sure exactly what it was he was doing but you would be willing to bet money he was searching for some image of a cool rock you sketched a week ago. 

“Why on  _ earth _ would you willingly go into that shithole?”

Namjoon shot you a look before resuming his search. “That  _ shithole _ , as you so eloquently put it, has apparently yielded some strange stone that the warden wants me to inspect. See if it’s worth any money. 

You scoffed. Of course, the warden was searching for a profit, as usual. “Do you want me to come?”

Namjoon laughed. “Want? Yes. Need? No. You stay up here and keep checking the rivers for more pyrite or gold. See if you can find any more samples on the American. I won’t be long, and then I’ll join you.”

* * *

The hours passed slowly without Namjoon’s conversation. You didn’t think you would ever  _ miss _ his incessant chatter about rocks and whatever cool facts he could spout on command, yet here you were. You were almost done checking the southernmost point of the American for any recent discoveries from the panners when the earth began to quiver. 

You quickly gripped a nearby tree as the shaking intensified, small cracks breaking through the surface nearby. Men screamed as the earth let out another massive quake, and in the distance you could see the tents swaying back and forth. You had felt some minor earthquakes on your journey over, but nothing as huge as this.

In a few seconds the earth settled, resuming her quiet existence, and you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. You couldn’t wait to see Namjoon later and listen to him ramble on about tectonic plates and the earth’s molten core and whatever other nonsense you had grown fond of.

You stopped in your tracks.  _ When had you grown fond of anything that ridiculous man did?  _

The realization of your feelings hit you like a wall and you barely moved out of the way in time as a group of men ran towards the camp.

“Hurry!” One of them shouts at you. “Pull yourself together, boy! The mine is collapsing! We need to get those people out!”

You blink, coming out of your stupor. The mine is  _ collapsing? _

Your eyes widened.

_ Namjoon is in the mine.  _

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha! The second installment. I hope you all enjoy and that this brings about a little bit of joy to you isolation.

The camp was a flurry of activity. Dust was heavy in the air, making it hard to see and breathe. People dragged others from the entrance of the mine. Some of them were moaning, screaming. Others were silent. 

You ran, desperately, from tent to tent. Poking your head in and doing a quick sweep for Namjoon’s dark hair and tall form.

Nothing.

“Namjoon!” You screamed, pushing through the chaos. “Namjoon!”

A man burst past you, covered in soot and grasping his arm, shouting for help. Another ran to his aid and you stared at them in shock before the crowd pushed you closer to the entrance of the mine. Debris littered the outside of the cave like a huge force had imploded from within. A few large boulders made it impossible to see deeper and more fell from the ceiling, making exit nearly impossible. Dust clouded the air making it difficult to breathe and you lifted a hand to your mouth to try and block it out. 

Chaos ensued around you and you reached to grasp an old man who darted past.

“Sir,” you choked, coughing on the dust. “Sir, have you seen the professor anywhere?” 

He shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen him, he’s probably still inside.” 

_ Inside. _

The earth trembled again although this time, it wasn’t from a quake. 

“The mine, the mine’s collapsing!” A man shouted. People frantically tried to pull survivors out as the shaking intensified. There were only a handful of seconds left. You pushed against the crowd, the only one moving  _ towards _ the entrance. 

“Namjoon!” you screamed again, voice hoarse from repetition. 

That’s when you saw it. A tall form, struggling to make its way out of the entrance of the mine, the figure of a young man draped over his shoulders. The boulders were making it nearly impenetrable and the form stopped, gently placing the man down and sticking his face through a gap in the rocks, searching for air. 

He was covered in blood and soot, but still recognizable.

He would always be recognizable to you. 

_ Namjoon. _

The earth released another shudder, a plume of smoke burst from the cave. 

_ He’s not going to make it. _

You ran faster to close the distance between you and the mouth of the cave. Men reached out to stop you, save you, but you darted around them. You knew how stupid this was, how dangerous, but it was your job to save him, keep him from harm. And it was a promise you intended to keep, feelings aside.

The wooden beams holding up the entrance shook as Namjoon struggled to move the boulder. You reached the other side and gripped the rock, trying to pull as Namjoon pushed but it was no use. 

He looked up, seeing you for the first time and you nearly cried in relief. He was bleeding from a head wound, soot covered every inch of his body and dried blood coated his limbs. Whether it was his own, or others you didn’t know. But he was  _ alive. _

Not for long. 

“Y/N,” He choked. “What are you doing here? Get back.”

“No,” you responded, pulling on the rock before turning to shout out into the chaos. A small crowd had gathered to watch your actions, scared from the quivering of the earth. “Help! I need some help!” 

“Y’N, the mine is going to collapse,” Namjoon said, his voice stern. “Get back.”

“You’re not the boss of me, Namjoon,” you answered, holding his gaze. “And I’m not leaving without you.” 

Before he could talk back, two men broke out of the crowd to help. When they reached the boulder they assisted you in pushing it as much to the side as it could go, creating a tiny gap big enough for Namjoon to shove the unconscious boy out. 

He couldn’t have been more than twenty and was quite the scrawny thing. In a few short seconds one of the men had the boy under the arms and was lifting him out of the hole. The man half dragged the boy back into the crowd. You turned to look at Namjoon. His turn. 

He made to exit out of the hole but his shoulders were too broad. Frustrated, he turned and tried another angle. It was no use. He was too big. 

The other man and you shoved against the boulder again, but it wouldn’t budge. The walls of the mine shook and debris crashed to the ground, mere feet from where Namjoon crouched.

“Y/N,” Namjoon said quietly. 

You threw yourself against the boulder again. “ _ No.” _

“Y/N, listen to me. You need to get out of here. This mine is going to collapse and it is going to shoot out all sorts of shit.  _ Please.” _

“I’m not going without you.” 

Namjoon sighed, addressing the man who had bravely stayed at your side. “Get her out of here.”

The man’s brow scrunched. “Her?”

“You heard me,” Namjoon growled. You threw yourself at the boulder again, letting out a shout when it collided wrong with your shoulder. You had never heard Namjoon take such a forceful tone, even when he was dealing with the ignorant remarks of the miners. “Get  _ her  _ out of here. Now!”

Before you could react, the man grabbed you by the shoulders from behind. You struggled, but he was bigger than you and he wrapped his arms around your torso, lifting you up from the ground, legs kicking out.

“No!  _ No!  _ Put me down!” You shouted. The rumbling grew louder. “Put me  _ down! _ If we don’t help him he’ll  _ die!”  _ The man didn’t respond, following Namjoon’s wishes as he half carried half dragged you to the crowd. “Please! Listen to me he’ll-”

The mine exploded. 

It happened so quickly. One minute, it was there, spitting out dust and debris, and the next it was rubble. You don’t remember screaming. You don’t remember anything other than the man covering your body with your own as dirt and rocks rained from the sky. 

When it was over, he lifted himself off you and you searched the smoke for signs of Namjoon. Signs he had made it, somehow, despite the odds. Coughs racked out around you as men covered their mouths and struggled to stand. 

You rose, frantically, but your field of vision was limited because of the haze. 

“Namjoon!” You screamed. At some point your cap had fallen off and your hair hung freely around your shoulders. You had never cut it after the journey. You had intended to but forgotten. It hardly seemed important now, anyway. Your identity. Why did it matter if the man you loved was dead?

_ Loved. _

Did you  _ love _ Namjoon? 

You had strong feelings for him, sure, but love?

Would you ever have a chance to figure it out?

“Namjoon!” You couldn’t keep the desperation from your voice even if you tried. You could feel the tears streaming down your dirty face, carving paths of cleanness down to your jaw.

Then, you saw it. 

It started as a dark splotch in your vision. You shook your head, wondering if it was a trick of the light. The Californian sun trying to burn through, despite everything. But, no, it  _ was _ a shape. A humanoid shape. And it was getting darker. 

_ Namjoon. _

You ran through the haze, shouting his name. The figure became clearer and clearer until it materialized to be the lanky, goofy man you had come to know so well in the past month. You didn’t know how he’d gotten out and you didn’t care. All that mattered was that he was here. He was alive. 

When you reached him, you leapt onto him, arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He embraced you happily, his arms holding you towards him as he smashed his lips onto yours.

It was a sloppy kiss, your faces collided too hard, and the dirt made everything taste strange but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because it was Namjoon and he was alive. You laughed and he responded by kissing you with more fervor, his hands reaching down to cup your ass, to hold you closer to him. 

You were vaguely aware of the men watching, as the haze cleared, what appeared to be an underage boy making out with a dashing professor but you pushed their thoughts out of your mind. With your hair and your shrieking if they were truly too dense to notice, then there was no hope for them after all. 

He broke the kiss to pepper your forehead, cheeks, neck with smaller, more frantic kisses. You clung to him, paying no mind to the way the dried blood and soot rubbed off onto your clothes.

“God, you stubborn woman,” he whispered between kisses. He was smiling, the relief setting in that you were both safe. “Why don’t you  _ ever _ listen?” 

You pulled back, grinning up at him. “You wouldn’t like me half as much if I did.”

He leaned down, capturing your lips again, before pulling back to look into your eyes.

“You’re right.” 

* * *

As the camp struggled to deal with the aftermath of the collapse, Namjoon and you retreated to his tent to deal with his wounds. You helped him peel out of his filthy clothes and inspected his body carefully, but came up empty. Other than the head wound and some minor scrapes, he appeared to be generally unscathed. 

When he was standing before you, with only his undergarments on, you struggled to keep the thoughts of this being the most of a man’s body you had ever seen from your mind as you pulled him to the corner of the tent where you kept the water basins. You put a pot over the fire to warm it and gathered some clean towels. Namjoon sat there, quietly, the events of the day rendering him in shock. Enough so, that he also didn’t seem to mind that he was exposing himself to a young lady. 

You brought over the water when it was warm and settled yourself on a stool before him. Moans of the injured and many voices could be heard outside the tent but you tuned them out as you squinted to study Namjoon in the firelight. His eyes were glassy, his breathing shallow as he watched you. The trust that was in his gaze was evident and you gripped his jaw as you poked gently around the wound. He cringed.

“I don’t think you need stitches,” you said, bringing a damp cloth to his brow. “But I’m no doctor.” 

“I may be soon,” he whispered.

You stopped your patting to look at him. “What?”

“Of geology,” he stated. “That’s part of the reason I took this gig. I’m working towards my doctorate.” His voice was devoid of any tone. Just simple, stated fact. Completely out of character from his regular self. 

You cupped his face, searching him for any signs of the man you had come to know the past month. The shock seemed to be slowly wearing off and exhaustion was creeping into the lines around his eyes. You couldn’t imagine the horrors he had faced down in the mines. The things he’d seen. 

You dipped your towel back into the warm basin of water and brought it up to his face, washing away the dirt and grime, careful to avoid the now clean head wound but making a note to grab some alcohol from the cabinet later to splash on it. Bet  _ that _ would wake him up. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes with a soft groan when you ran the towel through his hair to get as much dirt as possible. 

“Joon,” you whispered. “What happened?” 

He shook his head, slowly, eyes cast to the floor.

“Hey, look at me,” you tipped his chin up so you could meet his eyes. “Y’know you can talk to me, right?”

He reached up, his hand cupping your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. “You’re the only one I talk to.” 

You waited patiently, his eyes on your lips. After a few seconds he seemed to compose himself and he sat back, breaking contact. “I was with some boys, when the earthquake struck. We were deep in the mines trying to extract some silver.”

“It wasn’t bad at first,” he continued his voice low. “The shaking stopped and we laughed about it for a minute, but then we heard it. The crumbling.” He looked up at you, meeting your eyes. You waited patiently for him to continue. “The mines collapsed, Y/N. Just like that. One second, the tunnels were there, showing us the way to freedom. The next, they were reduced to rubble and stone.” 

“We ran, the boys and I, and the tunnels collapsed behind us. It took them all, one way or another. When it was just me and one boy left, the ceiling caved in again and caught his legs. It took nearly all my strength to free him and even then, he passed out from pain. I carried him up until you found me.”

“Oh, Joon,” you said, reaching for him. He allowed himself to be pulled into your arms and you pulled yourself between his legs to hold him. He cupped your body, essentially pulling you onto his lap.

You pressed tender kisses to his forehead, jawline, the column of his neck quietly saying his name over and over. His arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you even closer as he nuzzled his face into your neck. 

“God, I couldn’t save them Y/N,” Namjoon whispered against your neck. His lips tickled but you didn’t flinch, encouraging him to talk about the trauma by rubbing soothing circles against his back. “They were just kids, on the brink of adulthood, eager to find riches to help kickstart their life and I couldn’t save them. It-it collapsed on them all. One by one. Sheer luck is the only reason I’m here today.” Defeated, he lay his head on your shoulder. “I don’t deserve to be alive.”

You pulled back to look at him, grasping his face in your hands. “Don’t you  _ dare _ say that Kim Namjoon. You absolutely deserve to be here. It was a terrible accident that no one saw coming. You tried your best but there was nothing more you could do.”

He looked at you, his eyes soft in the glow of the fire. “You don’t blame me for not being able to save them?”

“Never.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “It’s not your fault, Joon. There’s nothing you could have done.”

He closed the distance between your faces, pressing his lips against yours. When he pulled back he moved his lips up to your ear and whispered a simple “Thank you.” His breath tickled your ear and you nuzzled your forehead against his.

For a few minutes you both sat there in silence, your previous job of cleaning him up forgotten. You murmured sweet nothings to him, running your hands over his body, and he massaged lazy circles on your back. 

You don’t know who instigated it but suddenly you were kissing again, your mouth open to his advances as he swirled his tongue against yours. You groaned into his mouth and Namjoon lifted you both off the chair and laid you down on one of the many carpets he had spread out before the fire. 

He covered your body with his own continuing to spread soft kisses down your neck and over the fabric of your loose shirt. Briefly aware of how filthy you might be you laughed as you pushed him off. 

“Joon, your wound is going to get infected if it keeps getting dirty,” you said motioning to your gray shirt that had started the day stark white. 

“I don’t care,” he reached for you again, eager to continue his assault. 

“Well, in that case,” you pulled the shirt over your head exposing the bandages wrapped around your chest to conceal your breasts. Namjoon halted in his tracks, reaching out to brush his fingertips over the binds, feeling the itchy material on his skin. 

“You do this every morning?” He asked softly. 

You nodded. “It’s the only way to hide them.”

He found the pin on your side that marked the end of the wrap and tugged on it softly. “May I?”

You nodded. You had never been one to care much about sex. You knew what people thought of women who lost it before marriage but honestly, you weren’t exactly in their favors right now anyway what with all the crossdressing. 

That didn’t change the fact that-

“Joon, wait.” You reached out to clasp his hands as they worked to undo the pin. He looked up at you, his face all angles and wide eyes and you resisted the urge to brush back the hair that had fallen onto his face. “I’ve never. . . I’ve never-”

“Had sex?” He finished for you. 

You nodded.

“It’s okay,” he said reaching out to cup your face. “We don’t have to do this. We can stop right now-”

“No,” you shook your head. “I  _ want  _ to. I’ve never felt these feelings before for  _ anyone _ , Namjoon and I want my first time to be with you more than anything else. I just wanted you to know, in case. . .”

He smiled. “In case what? You being a virgin doesn’t deter me any, Y/N. I still love you all the same.”

Your eyes widened. “You love me?”

He blushed, looking down at his feet. “Yeah, I just blurted that out right then, didn’t I?” He rubbed a hand behind his neck, avoiding meeting your eyes. “Uh, I guess I’ve known for awhile? Probably the day I first met you and you were cursing like a sailor and stomping around like some horrifying monster when, in actuality, you were just this cute girl who thought she could conquer the world with a hunk of precious metal.”

You laughed reaching for his hands to stop his blabbering, forcing him to look at you. “I love you too, Namjoon.”

He stared at you, in shock. “You do?” 

You leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on his lips. “I do.” 

That did it, in a few seconds Namjoon had scooped you up onto his lap and was kissing you so fervently you thought your lips would fall off. His hands found the pin on your side and before you could react he was unwinding the bandages around your chest. When he was done he pulled back slightly to take in the beauty of your chest.

“God damn,” he whispered, bringing up a hand to massage your right breast. You moaned under his grasp although his hands were warm. “How in the world did you manage to get them as flat as you did?”

“A lot of deep breathing and vigorous cursing,” you responded, your head lolling back under his massage.

“Ah, so basically how you approach every situation?” 

You playfully shoved him and Namjoon laughed as he fell backward, you now straddling him as he lay back on the floor. He rested his hands behind his head and looked up at you, the picture perfect definition of a confident male specimen and you grinned down at him. You could feel his clothed cock pressing up into you from below and you rolled your hips gently, grinding down onto it, eliciting a sharp moan from Namjoon. It was amazing how fast his features changed, you thought, continuing the motion. In a few seconds a lustful darkness settled into Namjoon’s eyes and he gripped you around the waist and flipped you both over so that he was back on top.

He covered your mouth with his, massaging your breasts eagerly. His fingertips toyed with your sensitive nipples and you let out a guttural sound that had Namjoon growling in response. He abandoned your breasts to begin working on unlacing your pantaloons. When they were free, he lifted your pelvis so you could wiggle out of them. He planted large, open mouthed kisses on your torso, your pelvic bone, your clothed mound before nipping at the fabric of your panties. 

Namjoon brought his large hands up to your hips to peel your soaked panties from your form.

“Don’t be nervous,” he whispered. “If we do this right, it won’t hurt.”

You had read about the pain, but it really didn’t concern you. You had a high tolerance and quite honestly, suspected you liked a bit of pain. “It’s okay,” you answered. “I trust you.”

Namjoon smiled before lowering his mouth to your soaked core. He kissed the peak of your mound before making his way down to your center. When he opened his mouth and started moving his lips, you could have sworn you had died and gone to heaven. You didn’t think you had ever felt something so wonderful. 

“Namjoon-” you sputtered, reaching down to clutch his hair, holding him in place. He continued his kisses before he plunged his tongue into you. It was a weird sensation, one that had you squirming but it was shallow and warm and overall pleasant. He brought a hand up to your pelvis to stop your movement and another hand to massage the bundle of nerves at the peak of your thighs that you thought only  _ you _ knew about. In a period of short moments he had managed to produce a flurry of feelings deep in your core that threatened to explode. 

“Come on darling,” he whispered, lifting his mouth up to look at you. “Cum for me.” His fingers continued the circular motion on your clit and he lowered the other one to insert one finger into your cunt and you lost it. The reverberations that racked your body had you groaning out his name and you were grateful for a second that the camp was still in chaos because having to explain  _ this _ to the warden would not have been fun for either party. 

When you came down from your high you looked down to find a rather cheeky Namjoon grinning up at you. You rolled your eyes before sitting up and wrapping your hands around his neck. He began another kissing assault on your neck, licking and sucking hard enough that you knew there would be marks tomorrow, but you didn’t care.

“Hm, pretty girl,” he murmured. “Let’s see if we can get two.” 

He maneuvered one of his hands down your front and slotted himself between your legs again. This time he inserted two thick fingers into your cunt and you groaned at the sensation.

“Is this okay?” He asked and you nodded. He began to move them slowly in and out of you, using your slick to properly lubricate. When he was satisfied you were open he gently moved you off of him to shimmy down his underwear. 

You gasped at the sheer size of him when he broke free. His cock was hard already but you reached forward to take it tentatively in your hands. Namjoon groaned as you explored the silky softness before grasping it in one hand and pumping him slowly. 

“Is this right?” You asked and Namjoon nodded vigorously, throwing his head back. 

“Fuck yes,” he whispered and a wave of pride spurned you to pump faster. Only you could earn this reaction from him and it felt fucking _ great. _

After a few more pumps Namjoon stopped you and lifted you back onto his lap. “If you go anymore, darling, I’m going to spend myself right here.” He whispered. “Let’s start at this angle, okay? That way you can lower yourself at your pace.” 

You nodded as you lifted yourself over Namjoon. He adjusted himself so that he was perched at your entrance and you could feel the tension in his abdomen stopping him from thrusting into you in one fell swoop. 

Lowering yourself onto Namjoon’s cock was one of the most exhilarating and powerful feelings of your life. You took him in, inch by inch, slowly. He whispered into your ear, running his hands over your back, telling you what a good girl you were being as you took him deeper into your core. Namjoon had been right, it was an uncomfortable feeling at first, but not necessarily painful because of his prepping. When you felt your hip line up flush with his you leaned forward to capture his mouth with your own. 

“Are you okay if I move?” Namjoon asked and you nodded, not sure where to go from here. He looked down at where the two of you were joined and moaned as he lifted you up and gently settled you onto your back. 

He set a slow pace at first, gently rolling his hips in and out of you. 

“Does this hurt?” he asked, his breath hot on your ear and you shook your head, letting yourself revel in every feeling of him moving in and out of your core. 

“No,” you responded, turning your head to brush his lips. “It feels amazing.”

Namjoon grinned as he increased his tempo, never breaking eye contact with you. For a second, you felt like you were the only people in the world, the only ones that mattered. He wasn’t aggressive, he wasn’t forceful, he was just Namjoon. Namjoon telling you how much he loved you, appreciated you, with the way his hands caressed your body, the look in his eyes, the pulse of his hips. 

You arched your back as you felt another orgasm growing, throwing your legs up over Namjoon’s hips to grant him deeper access. From this angle he was hitting you in all the right places and you let out a series of breathy moans as you came around him again. The sensation of your convulsing cunt elicited a deep groan from Namjoon and his pace began to get erratic. You knew what that meant and urged him on with dirty words and murmured nothings. Namjoon focused on you, and only you, as he pistoned himself into you again and again, chasing his end. Right before he blew he pulled out of you, thrusting himself into his hand at a rapid pace before finishing himself off on your torso. 

When he was finished, he grabbed one of the moist cloths you had been using earlier and used it to clean both you and him before pulling him into your arms and following you both into the warm darkness

* * *

You awoke feeling safe and warm for the first time in a long time. Some time in the night Namjoon had brought over blankets from his cot and wrapped them around the two of you to keep out the chill of the desert air. You were lying on Namjoon’s chest, head in the nook where his shoulder met his neck with one of your hands pressed against his heart, the beat lulling you in and out of consciousness. One of his large arms was wrapped around your back, nestled in your waist and your legs were intertwined beneath the thick quilt. 

You stayed like for many moments after you awoke until you felt Namjoon’s breath stutter and him readjust to look down at you. You met his gaze, tracing his cheek in the early morning light. 

“Good morning,” you murmured, trying to memorize the contours of his face. You had an idea of what the day would bring. 

Namjoon smiled. “Good morning, beautiful.” 

You blushed at the word but a harsh voice outside of the tent drew you both from your nest. 

“Professor Kim! We demand that you come outside immediately and bring the- er . . . .  _ boy _ out with you! We know she’s in there!” The warden bellowed proving that his voice really  _ was _ that unpleasant at all hours of the morning. 

You didn’t have time to wrap your chest and honestly, you figured it didn’t really matter now. You started to pull on your soot covered clothes, but Namjoon stopped you. He crossed the tent and pulled out fresh clothes from his chest and handed them to you. You quickly pulled on his trousers (much too big for you) and a dark grey shirt (that nearly swallowed you whole). You didn’t mind though since they smelled like Namjoon and comforted you slightly. You weren’t sure how this would pan out but figured this was probably the end of you taking control of your future in this camp. 

Another shout outside of the tent had you shoving the shirt into the oversized pants as fast as you could. When you were done you looked to see Namjoon already dressed and watching you.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, moving across the room and pressing a quick kiss to your brow. “We’ll figure it out.”

The sun was blinding when Namjoon pulled back the door to the tent and you squinted as your eyes struggled to adjust. When they finally did you were greeted by a small crowd that had gathered outside Namjoon’s tent, the warden at the head.

He sized you up, his eyes observing all. How you were still dressed in men’s clothes (not your own), hatless and with your hair loose around you and that bold look in your eyes. You stared him down, refusing to let him see how much his gaze affected you. You hadn’t come this far to fail now. 

He nodded in Namjoon’s direction. “Professor Kim.” He turned to you. “Boy.”

“Warden,” you responded, your tone like ice. 

“It appears, we have a traitor in our midst,” the warden began, pacing slightly. His men parted to make room for his movements. Namjoon stepped closer to your side. “A woman dressed in men’s clothing. Comin’ out here and lookin’ to steal the very riches from our hands.” 

“I came here for the same reason as you,” you stated. “Only looking to kick start a new life.” 

“Yeah, but here you are startin’ it on a bed of deceit and lies,” the warden spit. 

“Would you have hired me if you knew I was a woman?” you asked. The warden was silent. You took that as a sign to continue. “I was only doing what I had to do to survive, same as you.”

The warden spat on the ground by your feet. Namjoon flinched, moving towards him but you put a warning hand on his arm. You would fight your own battles. 

“Your work here is done,” the warden bellowed. “You gather your things and you get the fuck out of my camp. If I see you here past sundown, I’ll be giving you to the men as an after dinner treat.”

“You will do no such thing,” Namjoon hissed and the warden laughed.

“And  _ you _ , professor. You are on mighty thin ice. You finish your work here and you get the hell out of my camp.” The warden stared at you and you held the gaze, an eye for an eye. “Sundown, witch, and consider yourself lucky that’s all I’m doing. My word is law.”

The warden spun on his heel and stormed across the camp and the crowd slowly dispersed. Some of the men shot you dirty looks and others seemed regretful of the warden’s actions but no one spoke up in your defense or to you in general, for that matter. Namjoon seethed beside you and you turned to enter his tent, him hot on your heels. 

The second you got into the tent you gathered up the few belongings you had left scattered, preparing to go to your own tiny tent and see if any of your stuff had survived the night or if the men had stolen it once you were deemed unworthy. Namjoon paced, clearly agitated. When the seething silence was too much to bear, you spoke up.

“Well. I think that went mighty well, all things considered.”

Namjoon stared at you like you had grown two heads. “ _ Well?  _ You think that was  _ well?” _

“I mean, I’m unharmed and have been given permission to leave, albeit empty handed but,” you shrugged. “Ya take what you can get I suppose.” 

Namjoon shook his head, letting out a forced laugh. “You really are something else, Y/N, y’know that?” 

You moved to his side, running your hands up and down his arms. “It’s okay, Namjoon. It really is. You’re almost done here and I-”

“I can’t finish this without you.”

“Don’t be dramatic. How much longer do you have left?” 

He looked at you. “A few weeks.” 

You smiled. “Namjoon, that’s nothing. There are plenty of other camps nearby where I can lay low and then we can meet up once you’re done. Easy.” You didn’t actually know how easy it would be. Your cover was blown and word traveled fast out here. Plus, thinking about leaving him tore a hole in your heart. Unfortunately, it was your only option. 

Namjoon shook his head. “I can’t.”

“You  _ can _ ,” you demanded, searching his eyes. “Namjoon, you can’t give this up. You are too close to the end. I’ll be fine. I’ll go back to being the nameless boy who no one pays attention to for a few more weeks and then, when you have all you need, we can start over in San Francisco. I hear it’s really starting to boom.” 

He sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy hair before letting out a meek “Okay.”

“What was that?” you asked, a smile on your lips.

“Okay,” he responded, cupping your chin. “But only for a few weeks. You go on ahead to San Francisco. I have a friend there, Jin is his name. He owns a bed and breakfast in the Western Sector, by the sea. You go there and tell him I sent you and he’ll put you up until I come to collect.”

“Collect?” You asked leaning up to brush his nose with your own. 

“Yes, Y/N,  _ collect.  _ What? You think you can use me for my body and then leave me forever?” You laughed and he kissed you, catching you by surprise. “I intend to find you there in a few weeks, my dear, where I’ll be greeting you with a doctorate  _ and _ a wedding ring.”

“Oh my,” you placed a hand over your heart, feigning surprise. “Is that a threat of a marriage proposal, Professor Kim?” 

Namjoon pulled you in for another kiss, breaking it to whisper softly in your ear “It’s not a threat, Miss Y/L/N. It’s a promise.” 

***

With Namjoon’s assistance it didn’t take long to finish gathering your things. You didn’t have much. You retrieved your horse from the camp’s stable boy, meeting everyone’s stares along the way. You weren’t going to let them see how they affected you. When you stood, next to your horse, watching the late afternoon sun sink on to the horizon, you let the events of the past 24 hours sink into your bones. The thought of leaving Namjoon right now seemed unbearable, but you knew it was the only option. 

He approached you now, a small satchel in his hand. He thrust it forward into your hands, without a word.

“What is this?” you asked, taking the bag. Namjoon shrugged. You opened the satchel to see three apples, some jerky, a journal, and a huge lump of gold in the bag. You closed it, quickly. 

“Namjoon,” you hissed. “I can’t take this! You need it for your work. What if the warden finds out?!”

Namjoon grinned, clasping your hands over the bag. “He’s never going to find out. Besides, I have plenty to do my work with. That should be enough to get you to San Francisco and take care of you until I join you.”

“Namjoon, it’s too much. I can’t accept.” 

“Y/N, please, just once in your life will you listen to me? I’m not doing it out of the kindness of my heart. Think of it as protecting my assets.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I am not an asset to be bought.”

“I never said you were,” he replied. “It’s for the horse.”

You looked at your horse. Then back at him. Then once more at the horse, for good measure. “That is  _ my _ horse!”

“Yes, but he’s one of my favorites. I come here often and feed him apples. I’ve grown quite fond.”

“I’ve literally never seen you here before!”

Namjoon groaned. “For God’s sake,  _ woman, _ take the gold!” 

You laughed, shoving him gently and Namjoon pulled you into an embrace, his grip tender but firm. You pressed your nose against his chest, inhaling deeply, before turning your face up to his, once again trying to memorize his features. The gentle slope of his nose to his full lips. The curve of his brow over his dark eyes. His hair, dark and permanently tousled. 

He leaned down, capturing your lips with his own and his kiss whispered all the feelings he had been showing you the last few weeks and the gentle murmurings of his love the night before. It spoke not of goodbye but rather until next time. He broke it and leaned his forehead against yours, both of your eyes closed as you reveled in the moment. 

“Don’t forget about me on your grand adventure,” he whispered, his thumb moving back and forth against your shoulder. 

“I could never,” you responded. “Besides, you know where I’ll be. Kind of hard to forget when you could burst in at any moment and ruin all my fun.” 

He chuckled at that and nuzzled into your neck for a brief second before stepping back to break the embrace. 

“You should get going, it’s going to be dark soon and you need to make it out of wild country before sundown. Shouldn’t be too far to the nearest town.” 

You nodded, knowing he was right. You swung yourself onto your horse in one smooth motion and Namjoon approached you for one last kiss before slapping your horse gently on it’s rear, sending it trotting down the path. 

You turned back only once, right before a bend in the path that would take you from Namjoon indefinitely. You found him standing there, ever loyal, his hands in his pockets and that lazy grin you loved so much plastered on his face. He waved a little before turning on his heel to walk back into camp. 

It was going to be a long few weeks. 

* * *

**Epilogue**

You sighed as you put down the paintbrush, unsatisfied yet again with your work. You felt like no matter how much you painted, you couldn’t get the colors right. You were on the upstairs balcony of Jin’s Bed and Breakfast watching the bustling crowd below. Merchants from all over the world, people searching to prosper from the gold rush, and immigrants here to help with the railroad all contributed to make San Francisco quite the booming metropolitan center. It was no New York City, but aspects of it certainly reminded you of home. 

You had done a lot in your time away from Namjoon, making it to San Francisco in just a little under a week. Jin had welcomed you with open arms, allowing you to stay in a suite on the second floor away from his other guests. The lump of gold Namjoon gave you was more than enough to kickstart your life and pay for an abundance of new canvases and paints to pass the time. 

You took a minute to search the bustling crowd, as you always did, for the man who’s figure you knew better than any other but turned up empty. You had expected Namjoon a week ago and with each passing day, worry struck your gut.  _ What if he’s hurt? What if he never truly cared for you at all and ran at the first chance he got?  _

You shook your head, clearing the thoughts and began to clean up your supplies. You stacked the paintbrushes precariously on your arms while balancing the cup of dirty paint water as you tried to maneuver inside. It was no surprise, really, when you stumbled and the water sloshed over onto your clothing. Brand new clothing, I should mention, that Jin had ordered specifically for you.

“God  _ fucking _ dammit!” You blurted as you threw the brushes into the sink loudly. 

“Y’know, has anyone ever told you that you have quite the dirty mouth for a lady?”

You froze. You knew that voice. You spun around to see him, the man you had come to know so well, standing in the doorway to your studio. He looked older somehow, tanner and leaner than he was before but that grin on his face was unmistakable.

“Namjoon!” You exclaimed, charging across the room to leap into his arms. He plastered your face with kisses, not giving a care for the way your dirty clothes rubbed off on his own. “You came for me,” you whispered into his neck, your smile reaching almost to your ears.

“Of course,” he answered, nuzzling the top of your head. “I made you a promise and besides, I came to collect.”

You snorted. “The horse is out back. Safe and sound.” 

Namjoon grinned. “And what of you? Have you given any thought to my offer?”

“Offer?” you asked. “Do you mean the marriage thing? Because I’m pretty sure you never proposed, Kim Namjoon-”

“Dr,” he interrupted. “It’s Dr. Kim Namjoon now.”

You threw up your hands. “Wow, we’re getting big and fancy here. As I was stating, I don’t believe you ever actually proposed  _ Doctor _ .”

Namjoon dropped to his knees before you could react. You stared at him, surprised. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” 

“Get up this instant!” you demanded.

“No,” he smiled his signature goofy grin up at you. “Y/N, despite your many flaws-”

“Oh wow, what a start” you interrupted.

Namjoon wasn’t deterred. “-and your foul mouth, I have fallen inexplicably and uncontrollably in love with you. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone  _ but  _ you.”

You snorted.

“Y/N, I am trying to be sincere. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” 

He knelt there, his eyes wide, and your heart melted. Melted like it did every time you saw him, every time he kissed you. You knew your answer. You had known it for months. Probably from the first time you watched him pan for gold but definitely from when he got excited over a new discovery or made love to you in the tent. There was no one else for you either. 

“Yes.” 

  
  



End file.
